Give me a Reason
by Dreamicide
Summary: Ahiru was always full of surprises, but even some things manage to completely catch Fakir off guard. — FakirAhiru


**notes:** warnings for smut. if you're underage or don't like this sort of thing, feel free to backspace. i won't hunt you down, promise.  
><strong>post-series. <strong>ahiru and fakir are aged up appropriately.  
><strong>i own nothing.<strong>

**2014 update:** i originally wrote this fic some years ago back when i was still ignorant about a lot of things, and going back and rereading with what i know now i can't help but feel discomforted that i had no issue with writing ahiru so fervently trying to pressure fakir into sex without thinking it needed any sort of warning at all. i won't try to pretend this wasn't a part of my writing history by deleting it, but for anyone reading this for the first time, please be warned that it indeed does contain such content and to proceed with caution.

* * *

><p><strong>Give Me a Reason<strong>

"Oh come on, Fakir!"

The desk shifted forward a little as the writer suddenly threw his forehead against his palm, slamming his eyes shut. His other hand, one currently busy with a pen, constricted in irritation at the incessant pleads.

The desk light flickered as he turned to her, eyes weary but sharp. "Later."

Ahiru only pouted, scooting in closer from behind and placing her hands on his shoulders. "But Fakiiiiir…"

With the dragging out of his name, the young man forced himself to turn back to his work, ignoring the small shiver that ran up his spine. The pen scratched at the parchment in small noises as he paid no heed to her words. Surely she would get the message and just wait.

But Ahiru didn't move, giving him a look.

It had been some years since his words miraculously granted her a human body once more, and not long after that did he finally come clean with the way he felt about her. It was a difficult confession to make, but he concluded that she of all people deserved to know. And Fakir was nothing short of elated, especially considering the fact that the girl had somehow found it within herself to return those feelings unexpectedly. At first he didn't even know how to respond, always used to having to strive and struggle for every ounce of pleasure in his life. Their first months were actually spent with the writer trying to ease out of his tenseness around her.

It was definitely _strange_ at first, but the writer eventually gave in and started allowing himself to just be…happy and enjoy being with her. Those days were definitely different from what he was used to, but Fakir couldn't deny that he felt lighter than he had in years.

Their time together was full of quantity and quality. There was no doubt in his mind that Ahiru truly felt for him as much as he felt for her. Sure, they still argued and got on each others nerves a bit, but he couldn't expect anything else with Ahiru. Despite that, they loved each other deeply for years, and it was only a fortnight ago when they finally…for the first time—

An involuntary flush rose to the writer's cheeks as he hid it behind his hanging bangs, feeling the redhead's delicate fingers moving over his shoulders and neck. He could already feel the heat lingering in the wake of her path as his face flamed.

It was awkward as hell that first time; he could say that much with confidence. Ahiru had never been clued in on the fact that it was possible to show affection that was more intimate than cuddling or pecking him on the lips before. She just didn't know. And for months, Fakir had been reluctant to even bring it up, almost certain that a sudden rush of new things like that would only overwhelm her. But eventually, he remembered that Ahiru never hid anything from him, and therefore neither should he. And so that first moment when he leaned in and held his lips to hers for several seconds longer than was their norm, she was…confused.

And subsequently asked a _lot_ of questions.

In addition to the endless inquiries of why she felt so warm, why a certain spot tingled, or why she suddenly wanted to move around in weird ways she never thought of before, Ahiru also had much less inhibition on letting her immediate reactions show unfiltered. Fakir couldn't even count the number of times the girl suddenly gasped aloud to exclaim, "That felt so good!" as if he wasn't able to decipher it from her involuntary moans. Not only that, but whenever she pieced together a reaction of his to a particular action of hers, Ahiru made it a priority to repeat the act as many times as she could, sometimes completely overwhelming him until he couldn't think straight.

Yes, it was strange. Yes, it was beautiful. Fakir loved everything about Ahiru, and watching her discover so many new sensations—with him discovering just as much alongside her—was a moment he would treasure forever. The night was imprinted in his memory, and he looked upon it fondly.

…But then come the following night, Ahiru wanted to do it all again. And again the night after that. Then the night _after_ that. And eventually it had gotten to the point where the writer had become hard pressed to satisfy the young woman multiple times in _one evening_.

Fakir honestly could not have seen it coming.

When asked with a scowl on why on _Earth_ she couldn't stop asking to be intimate, Ahiru only furrowed her brows and jutted her lips out on a touch. "It feels good," she almost mumbled, eyes averting, "is that so bad?"

_Yes, it __**was**__ bad_, he wanted to correct while pinching the bridge of his nose, _bad that you can't seem to stop __**wanting**__ it_. Endlessly asking to be intimate, slowly growing into several times in one night…Fakir was only one man, and it was rather embarrassing to admit to himself. She _exhausted_ him. And it was all just probably the same reasoning she gave when finding a new flavor of dessert she liked. Just stuff her face with it until she got sick of the stuff. Her attitude was still like a little kid's, sometimes.

Which then landed Fakir in his current spot, hunched over the desk and trying to concentrate on writing his endings for Goldkrone instead of being fatigued further.

While Ahiru stood behind him clothed in a negligee that he didn't even _want _to know where she had the sense to purchase.

Keeping his eyes on the parchment, he suddenly felt the pressure of her chin resting on the top of his head. Her small breasts pressed purposefully into the back of his neck as he felt a coming whine reverberate against his skull. She couldn't see the flat look becoming on his features as he stared intently at the half-written paragraph.

"Fakiiiiiiiir…"

"_Later_," he reiterated, and he felt a sigh blow through his pulled-back hair.

Ahiru shifted against him, soon reverting to simply tracing her fingers around every inch of his back she could touch. "But I want it…"

Really, it was almost humorous. If Fakir was the type of person to do so, he would have chuckled. It honestly sounded as if she was begging for a sweet confectionery before dinner rather than a deep intimacy that was rather wearing out her lover.

But despite that, the writer allowed a small amused smile to pass through, unseen by the girl standing behind him. "You can wait." He reached up a hand to place over hers on his shoulder. "I just need to finish writing this up—"

"But I want you to do me right now!"

It was at that sudden blurt from the girl that caused Fakir to practically fall out of his seat, causing the chair to jerk forward and his head to whip around, eyes wide. He did not just hear that from Ahiru. He did not just hear Ahiru saying a lewd phrase like 'do me.' "You want—_what?_" he spat in disbelief, pen completely forgotten in his hand.

"I want you to do me," Ahiru repeated, taking her hands off his shoulders and crossing her arms indignantly. "_Hard._"

Fakir could only gape at her for several moments, mouth opening and closing. And suddenly, it felt like he was back in the caverns under the city. He was accidentally seeing a naked girl for the first time again. It was the only possible way that could accurately describe the intense redness that had overtaken his face.

Hard. The little duck-girl that had turned into a human girl for the sake of a pure innocent love just said she wanted him to _do her hard_. Fakir's thoughts honestly blanked out for a moment, and all he did was stare at her. She was always so innocent about everything they had done—where on earth did she pick up on such crude phrases like that?

In the silence that followed, Ahiru only continued to look at him expectantly. But once the writer finally found the means to use his voice again, he spat out with every hint of awkwardness he showed on that first night they were together. "You—who taught you that language?"

Shifting from one foot to the other, Ahiru defended herself with a pout. "…No one." Though her apprehension obviously revealed that it was a lie. There was no way she could think of something like that on her own.

Fakir grit his teeth together, reaching up to pinch his nose in exasperation. No, calm. He had to be more calm. She probably had no idea what she was talking about and needed a thorough explanation. That was probably all there was to it.

But even so, not for one moment did his face cool down, and he almost expected smoke to start pouring from his ears. Hearing the girl that was once upon a time discovering strange new sensations suddenly start using crude words like that…he honestly could not have seen it coming a mile away.

Even if she _did_ have an abnormally high sex drive for a young woman.

"…Ahiru," he began, brows furrowing, "that's…that's not something you can just say out in the open like that."

The redhead only shot back her own pout, allowing the neckline of her thin sleepwear to lower further from her collarbone. Fakir had never taken her as one to try seduction, but when it came to Ahiru, everything was unexpected. She was always a surprise. "But we're not out in public…" she reasoned, stepping closer, "so I can say anything I want, right?"

"You—" Fakir stiffened in his seat, "M-moron, that doesn't mean you can just—!"

"So I _want_ you to do me!" she declared almost proudly, reaching out to reinstate her hold around his neck. And almost as if listing off her favorite things, she began reciting all the euphemisms she must have caught wind of in the weeks since she first discovered intimacy. "Take me, please me, screw me, ravish me, fu—"

"AHIRU!"

Noticing that she was trying to situate herself on his lap, Fakir quickly dove in for her hips and pushed her off, standing up straight and ignoring her protesting whine. Face absolutely _fuming_ in heat, he gripped both her shoulders and leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "Y-you moron, you can't just suddenly start—!" but he cut himself off, placing his palm over his temple. Not only did she hear something like '_do me'_, but countless _other_ inappropriate phrases like that? Where did he even begin…?

The once-duck only tilted her head, genuinely confused. Her friends said a lot of those things like the one she just said—and a lot more— and they didn't make them sound like bad phrases to say. She blinked up quizzically at the young man, feeling the heat of his face against her forehead. "Fakir…?" Was she wrong? Should she have not said any of those weird words? But she had been wanting him to touch her a lot more lately…

But the writer only stood there, lips forming a thin frown as his cheeks burned. Yes, it was getting exhausting to take care to her needs and desires almost on a constant basis, but if she had resorted to going around leaning new_language_ like that, then… It didn't matter how tiring it became. Ahiru obviously needed him, and yet he only tried to make her wait continually.

…He should have taken her requests more seriously. The young man honestly didn't think it had become that bad for her, but obviously he was wrong. It was important that he start putting in more effort to make her happy, no matter how outlandish the request may be.

Yes. The writer was determined—he would not make that careless mistake again.

So then, finally breaking the warm silence, Fakir swallowed thickly. "You, ah…you really want to, right now."

"Mm," Ahiru nodded, cowlick swaying. "Hard."

Fingers automatically constricted over her shoulders as Fakir desperately stuffed back the urge to lecture her on her crude choice of wording. Instead of doing so, he stood still for several moments, not once opening his eyes and contemplating on what he needed to do. When it had gotten to the point that the redhead had naively demanded for it to be 'hard'…

All the while, Ahiru only continued looking at him with curious eyes. Did she upset him? If that were so, then he might not want to be intimate with her at _all_ tonight. She didn't want that. She quite bluntly just wanted him to 'take her' as one of her friends enunciated over a cup of mint coffee.

So when the hands at her shoulders suddenly forced enough pressure on her to make her feet stumble backwards, Ahiru gasped aloud. She looked up at him, his face still with firmly closed eyes, and raised her own eyebrows before feeling her legs bump into the side of the bed. Her knees gave way easily and the young woman flopped back down over the mattress and sheets, the hem of her negligee riding up slightly.

And almost instantly she was excited.

"Fakir!" She couldn't stop the grin from overtaking her face as she watched the young man take a step back, hands going for his vest and shirt before throwing it over the top of his head, neglecting to unbutton anything. When he looked back up to her, his eyes were slightly darkened, and Ahiru had to bite her lip in anticipation. He was going with it! He wasn't making her wait until later! And the familiar sight of his uncovered chest had the young woman already itching to touch him all over.

So she went along with that urge, sitting up at the edge of the bed and reaching a hand out. Before she could have a chance to splay her fingers out, though, he suddenly shot out his own hand to grip her wrist tightly without saying a word. The most he offered was a simple shake of the head.

Ahiru blinked in confusion, but when he abruptly released her to continue undressing himself, she got the idea and didn't initiate any more moves.

But that didn't stop her from watching him with hungry eyes. She shamelessly drank in the sight of the young man kicking off his footwear before going for his belt, and just the sight alone of that general area had Ahiru unconsciously rubbing her thighs together. He was so handsome and she loved him and he loved her and she just _needed_ him right now.

Over the weeks since they first made love, Ahiru had found that she rather liked the ruffling sound of clothes being taken off. The clinking of an undone belt clasp, the shuffling of cloth being eased over skin…

The mere thoughts were making her practically squirm in her seat already, especially once he finally rid himself of his pants, now left only in his usual dark undergarments that hugged around his abdomen. Ahiru wanted to touch him so badly but for some reason she just knew that he would stop her again and she just wanted him to hurry up and be rough with her already…

When the writer suddenly pushed her shoulders down to lay on the bed and began climbing over her, Ahiru squealed in excitement. She couldn't even resist—before he had the time to register anything, her fingers had dived down to his waistband and yanked his boxers down off his legs, allowing her to see his entire naked self, such a familiar sight but one that never failed to make her feel hot. His thick member had already partially risen, and the girl turned up her blue eyes to look at her lover, giddy and flushing. Ahiru could be shy by nature, but with Fakir she felt like she couldn't hide anything—and she never wanted to. She eagerly waited for his next move.

…But when Fakir made no more advancement on her, Ahiru frowned through the haze in her head. What was he doing? She once again sat up and reached for him. "Fakiiiir…" The girl wriggled her hips around, wanting to just press them against him. She knew how good that felt. "Why won't you…?"

Her unfinished question was answered with another abrupt grip to her wrist, hanging tensely in the air. And before she could blink, he had the other in his second hand, and Ahiru was back to laying down splayed across the bed with him hovering above. Her fingers curved inwards from over her head as she felt his breath fan out on her face.

Sure, his silence was unnerving, and she didn't really know what he was doing at first, but—yes! This was what she wanted! If only he would just get down from his knees so she could feel him more directly, that would be even better! Ahiru hoped that he would start rubbing against her soon. She liked the feel of him.

But with both her hands in his grasp, she couldn't do much. The position aroused her _terribly_, though, and she allowed it to do so, having never been taught the concept of decency or subtleness in the bedroom. She wanted him to 'take her hard,' and that's what he was going to do, wasn't it? Ahiru was in shameless anticipation.

But, _again_, Fakir stopped moving.

He merely supported himself on all four limbs above her, the only contact being his fierce fingers clenching her wrists. And his eyes were intent on hers, so deep and green and _why wasn't he moving?_

Ahiru whined in the back of her throat, and in a desperate desire for physical touch, began curling her legs inward to brush against his side. But even that, the writer was quick to retaliate to. His bare legs shifted, and they pinned across her own until the redhead was completely helpless beneath him, her night clothes ridden up to the top of her abdomen. She even took the planning to neglect wearing panties, he quietly noted to himself as he straddled her above.

And while she was pleased with his dominating position, she wasn't satisfied with the lack of…doing anything else. Especially to the pinning of her legs, with which she expressed through a huff in the back of her throat. "Hey, Faki—!" She squirmed against his restraints, before taking a moment to breathe heavily. "You—t-take me now, already!"

Fingers constricted around her arms, but other than that he did not move. He only stared at her with that same intent look, eyes half-lidded, lips formed in a thin line.

She didn't like him ignoring her. She didn't like the fact that he was just—just _keeping_ her there while she could see him naked and she was already feeling really funny and tingly in that place that made him blush when they first did it and—!

"S-Screw me!" she practically shouted, trying to get her point of urgency across. That's what it was, right? That's the way one said it, right? When he moved in her a lot faster and stronger than the first few times. That's what she wanted! Her face flushed with embarrassment at the thought that she was doing it wrong. But surely Fakir knew anyway, right? He was already on top of her and bare and everything.

Beginning to get just a little bit frustrated at his silence, Ahiru bucked her hips in the air, dejected that she couldn't get anywhere close to his skin. When he didn't react, she only repeated the action.

"Why—?" She gave a grunt, moving on to try and wriggle her wrists out of his hold to no avail. "Why won't you—rrgh!" Ahiru was so restless and he wasn't even doing anything! The girl bit her lip, trying to hold back her frustrations as she pleaded with her eyes. Was this because she kept wanting to do it with him? Did he not want to do it anymore? The thought wasn't very comforting.

"Come on, Fakir! I want—" she racked her mind for some more of the new terms she learned the previous weekend, "I want it rough and messy and…and…make me come hard!" There, that was a word she remembered being confused about. It wasn't one that stood out in her mind much, because she couldn't exactly tell what it was talking about. But out of context clues, Ahiru's best guess was that it referred to the point where she felt like she was being ripped away from reality.

Which was exceptionally funny to her, considering that she felt more like she was _going_ somewhere rather than coming closer.

But at that moment, the redhead didn't care. She just wanted to make him move. Above her, with her, in her. And she didn't know how many more phrases she could use that would make him understand.

Her arousal soon began growing more into frustration and irritation when he _still_ refused to let up on her. And she still tried thrashing about, shouting out expletives at the top of her head that she had hoped would get the message across. Many of them even sounded bad to _her_, but she didn't care.

The most Ahiru coaxed out of Fakir though was a simple wince when she used a particularly graphic word, his frown deepening and nails digging sharply into her skin.

"You moron…" he muttered, and for a fleeting moment Ahiru had thought that he was going to get up and leave her sitting there, needy. She really must have messed up this time. He didn't like the things she was saying and now didn't want to make her feel good anymore. Ahiru's heart dropped when he averted his eyes, and prepared herself for the coming ache that would overtake her senses once his heat had left her skin entirely.

Instead, she watched with wide dilated eyes as he leaned his head down and felt the softest touch being placed on her forehead.

…

She pouted.

While the movement was definitely something she had desperately wanted, Ahiru was more hoping that he would be more like…what she asked for. Dominating. Doing all that stuff about being 'hard' and 'intense' and everything. A tender kiss to her temple wasn't what she had in mind.

So Ahiru began wriggling again, an impatient noise at the back of her throat.

But Fakir gave no indication that she was affecting him as he lowered to kiss her again, over one of her eyelids. Her brows curved up as she frowned, lashes fluttering from the unexpectedly soft affection.

Not for one moment did he relent in his hold on her wrists and legs. But the writer continued administering tentative kisses to her, allowing his lips to trail over her skin. Her cheeks, her ears, her nose, her jaw, everywhere he had butterfly kisses left in the wake.

She loved his kisses, really she did. They always felt really nice and he made sure to give a lot of them to her and she did the same in turn. But right _now_ she wanted to be taken like a—what was it?—like an animal. Right.

And so with that thought on her mind, the girl tried maneuvering her head to tilt and return a kiss with more passion, only to be met with a receding face leaning back away from her. Her brows pursed forward, and she wanted to whine again. "Fakir, let me…!"

"Shh."

He spoke quietly, his last kiss still lingering on the curve of her ear. But then, the writer finally did do something different, and allowed his hips to gently lower and settle over hers.

Ahiru took the change with ample gratitude, immediately attempting to grind herself up against him. She could _feel _him there, and it felt _good_. So she shamelessly continued, the friction a sinful pleasure as she felt the heat slowly begin turning into a familiar dampness.

When Fakir didn't reciprocate any movements though, Ahiru could have screamed. Now he was just being a jerk! But the urge was interrupted by another delicate press of the lips to her neck, his breath fanning out over her skin in a quiet sigh. If she listened closely, she would have heard him mumble something else about a moron, but the girl was just too hot and needy to think straight. All she knew was that he kept teasing her with small movements. And she didn't want that!

But after a few tense moments, his hips began slowly moving in tandem with hers, and the feeling was a blessing. Ahiru let out a noise, eyes fluttering closed as she helplessly bucked back against him. Her fingers clenched and unclenched into her palms, still discouraged from being held so firmly. The redhead should have been elated that he was finally beginning to please her, but—but—it just wasn't _enough_. She had made it perfectly clear multiple times that she wanted a rough intimate encounter. To be taken with abandon. And maybe some other euphemisms she couldn't remember right now.

After giving a light huff in the back of her throat, Ahiru tried jerking with more pressure against him, trying to coax the young man into following her lead and increase his intensity. But whether her moves affected him or not, Fakir didn't let it show, instead keeping up his slow and languid pace with a determined look in his eyes. The same eyes that did not change, keeping their gaze upon hers with the highest concentration while revealing the darkness all the same. His breaths may have been ragged, may have been turning wavered—but she didn't notice over the heat and impatience of her own need.

Ahiru had every intention of demanding once more for him to take her—but was abruptly interrupted by the seal of his mouth over her own, swallowing any rising protests. The kiss was not full of wild passion, but more of the same soft and gentle moves the writer had given so far. Ahiru didn't get it, and she was frustrated. But all the same, she allowed him to work his jaw over hers as he continued the merciless tease of his hips.

She could definitely feel his length hardening through the motions, and while the thought made her hot inside, it still bewildered her that Fakir persisted in refusing to speed up the tempo. Her questions remained to be unspoken, however, as he remained in place against her lips.

Actually, his actions sort of reminded her of the first time they engaged each other. Fakir blushed and flailed a _lot_ more back then, especially when she pointed out something obvious and embarrassing, but after they trudged through the initial awkwardness he was very gentle. He held her tightly when it hurt, and showered her with an ample amount of affection she didn't know he was even capable of issuing. He took care of her. And while the night was unforgettable, it only led to her growing curiosity in the aspects of sex, in turn resulting in her desire for experimentation almost every single night. Ahiru felt a small stab of guilt at the thought that she was ruining the experiences as a whole for him, wearing him out—so for the moment she allowed herself to ease into simply watching his relaxed pace, desire swimming unceasingly in her eyes.

His attentions may have been soft and kind, but somehow Ahiru was still able to see the unabashed passion hidden underneath the surface. All concentrated in the expression of his eyes, not once averting from her own and completely intent. It was strange, but somehow the girl had begun to feel like she really was being ravaged by him, only with the sharp look he gave her. She found herself blushing when the kiss finally ended, pink dotting across her cheeks and lips partly swollen.

While the slow grinding of the hips were absolutely agonizing at that point and Ahiru wanted nothing more than to _scream_ that she wanted more from him, the girl also found that she wasn't able to deny that something about watching his languid progressions was somehow…mesmerizing. She couldn't explain it. And she was caught between demanding for more and just…simply letting him do what he was doing.

But before she could think better on voicing her initial wants, a particularly long grind resulted in his length sliding up against her heat, brushing on the sensitively sweet spot that made her back arch and the breath hitch in her throat. Without realizing it, she released a breathless, "_Oh_…" as her eyes fluttered shut. That spot. She _really_ liked it when he touched that spot. And even though he wasn't being fierce or dominating, she couldn't deny that he was still making her feel good.

The only reaction elicited out of Fakir, on the other hand, was a quiet grunt that was easy to miss. And he continued stimulating her, his hands slowly letting up on the vice grip he held to her for so long. Once he had her completely writhing underneath him, moving her hips with the same slowness as his, Fakir finally released her arms. Immediately they began trailing down, covering every expanse of skin they could find with the same tenderness as his entire self. Fingers skated down her arms, over her neck, down her collarbone, her breasts, and backtracked their path. He leaned his forehead to hers, wavered breath fanning over her nose, hair ticking her cheeks, and eyes still refusing to close.

And for once, Ahiru had no complaints. In fact, once she actually managed to register that her arms were free, she did nothing with them. While irritating in that he only ignored her at first, his touch was now nothing short of sensual. Even the gradual cupping of one of her breasts revealed not a trace of rough action, and despite that the feeling drew out a quiet moan from her as she arched, pushing the mound even closer to him.

It was strange. Before, she was so intent on having him just go crazy on her. Ahiru liked seeing him let go of all inhibitions, anyway. But the more he moved, the more she was…forgetting…

Still feeling his small kisses being peppered on her neck, Ahiru's eyes fell shut upon registering a hand slowly slide down to one of her thighs, and she unthinkingly allowed him to unpin her legs and part them with the smallest coax. He practically made her melt, and when she finally—_finally_—felt him line up and ease himself inside of her, Ahiru couldn't even remember the outlandish conversation they exchanged before toppling on the bed. She let out a sigh of bliss, his name hanging on the edge of her breath as she felt him throb from within. The sensation was now more than familiar to the young woman, but it never failed to make her mouth fall open.

The memory of their first time was clear in her mind—and it was certainly painful. And while that made her a little apprehensive about asking him to do it again the following night, her quick discovery that the pain was no more was a cherished one.

Now, after the countless number of times she had been with her lover already, her walls gave him a welcoming squeeze as her face contorted. She just knew that only Fakir would ever be with her like this, only Fakir could make her feel so good even when he wasn't doing what she asked.

It wasn't hard. It wasn't rough. But _oh_ it felt so good. And for a few moments Ahiru was almost expecting him to just stop again, just continue teasing her like he had done so many times already and if he dared to do that again she was going to just scratch his _eyes_ out and—!

But he didn't stop. He moved.

Slowly, Fakir began grinding his hips against hers while still inside of her, and the action was enough to still those panicked thoughts immediately. Ahiru whined, and in a desperate desire to touch him, her now free hands reached up to take hold on his back—but once again he bested her, his own digits releasing her breast and thigh to abruptly grab at her wrists again. She made another noise in protest—why wouldn't he just let her touch him?—but put up no more resistance as the writer once again pinned her arms above her head, his fingers maneuvering in between hers to link their hands together.

Still feeling his hardened length inside of her, Ahiru released a mewling sound which quickly turned into a satisfied sigh when she felt him pulling out. Upon entering right back in, her back arched, and the girl continued to allow different sounds to crawl out from her throat unfiltered as Fakir finally began moving with an even pace.

It was still too slow. Too slow! But Ahiru just couldn't find it within herself to openly object. She was too busy moaning, too busy clenching his hands with everything she had, too busy looking into those eyes that still remained unchanging as the man made love to her.

Her mouth parted, taking in slow deep breaths as she felt him entering and leaving, over and over. While she initially wanted nothing more than for him to thrust into her with every shot of energy he had, the sensual movement she was being exposed to still sent tingling sensations up and down her spine and made her toes curl. So much like that first night…

"Fakiiiir," she released on a breathy sound, knees bending up to slide on his sides. And then she felt a held breath being released over her face, lightly fluttering her bangs back. It was the only sign of exertion the young man had shown thus far, and the thought that he was also feeling good made her giddy under the blush. "Mmn…so…"

His next move, however, not even she could have foreseen. With a subtleness that she hadn't noticed, one of his hands left hers to crawl down over the skin of her front, down her neck, between her breasts, over her abdomen. Ahiru wasn't even aware of what he was doing until his fingers had already reached their connection point and brushed over her sweet spot.

"A-_Ahh_—!"

Automatically, she arched clear off the bed on a cry, face flaming and heart thumping in her chest. It was still so soft, so gentle, but it all the same it was so—!

Her eyes widened, watching him stare her down. He may not have looked like he was exerting much through the session, but even Ahiru was able to make out the sweat glistening over his shoulders, sticking to his hair. But when he gently pressed his thumb over the spot again, Ahiru couldn't help but to slam her eyes shut and squeal out into the air.

Fakir only had to stroke against the nub for several long seconds, watching her whine and gasp and part her legs further for more access before she abruptly came undone underneath his touch.

She screeched out of nowhere, bucking her hips intently against his working fingers and shaft as she wrapped her free arm around his neck and convulsed, pulled out of reality. Her abdomen clenched, her toes curled, and she could have sworn she saw stars floating above her eyes, clearing out every other second just to show his face contorting above her.

He continued on, even as she went through her release. Over and over, Ahiru felt him move in and out for several more minutes, quickly losing himself under the sensations. He was done with being gentle, and his hips bucked against hers until a strained grunt passed through her ears—and she knew he made it with her.

She felt a pulse, one much more prominent then the others, and the girl could only watch through hazy eyes and fascination as Fakir dropped off that same cliff, his mouth suddenly hanging open on a series of gasps as his gut jerked around against hers, still wanting to keep up the previous movements. She could feel the sharp sting of his nails digging to her hand from above, and in the next moment he released a long-winded groan, head lolling forward to rest next to hers. The air smelled of sweat and stickiness, but when the duo finally settled down into each other, Ahiru couldn't have been more content.

Yes, this was also one of her favorite parts when being intimate with Fakir. Feeling the warmth that he spread through her, softly falling back down from that high, feeling both of his strong arms releasing their holds to lazily wrap around her…she loved it. And she loved him.

…Even if he was kind of a jerk for teasing her so much.

So while they worked on getting their breathing rate to lower, Ahiru went and bopped him on the head before calling him such.

Still panting heavily into her neck, Fakir provided a hoarse rebuttal. "M-moron…you…" He lifted himself up with shaky arms, looking into her bright blue eyes and swallowing. "Don't…go around saying things like that…"

Despite her body's feeling of elation, Ahiru had to purse her eyebrows forward. When she added a pout into the mix, he only kissed it lightly, bringing another blush to her nose.

"…It's just not you," he said, closing his eyes and sighing. He took a hand to cup her cheek, pressing his face into the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

No, listening to Ahiru saying such crude words only irked him. And bothered him at the fact that she was desperate for his touch enough to go around overhearing such foul language. If that were truly the case, from then on, Fakir promised himself that he would always be there to tend to her. No matter how often she wanted it. The teasing was merely a small lesson. She didn't have to ask for any roughness or animalistic instincts. Quick and dirty sex wasn't what Fakir was looking for. He wanted to make _love_ with her.

And so for that, he would see to her. Take care of her. She deserved it.

At the very least, Ahiru seemed to get the picture. She blinked at his lingering words, before allowing her pout to melt away and she wriggled back to settle herself further under him. Her negligee now had wrinkles everywhere and was a little bit sweaty, but she could take care of that later.

For now, she just wanted to bask in the afterglow that always came with being intimate with him.

"…Won't do it again," she murmured, wiping the corner of her eye blearily. And it was the truth—she could tell that Fakir definitely didn't like hearing those words, even if they didn't sound like such a big deal to Ahiru. They sounded more funny, than anything. But if he didn't like it, then she wouldn't do it. Especially after the intense torture session he just put her through…

…Well, actually, there was just _one more_ phrase she remembered catching but couldn't figure out what it meant. Maybe instead of trying to use it, she could just ask Fakir what it meant? She was curious, at any rate. It brought about some of the more stitch-inducing giggles out of her circle of friends.

And so propping herself up on her elbows, Ahiru looked up at him with questioning eyes and tilted her head to the side, disheveled braid flopping over her shoulder. "Hey, Fakir? What about sucking you off, then? What does that one mean?"

Fakir blanched for several long moments as he took in her words, before flailing his arms around and abruptly planting his hand right over her mouth to silence her.

"Mmf—!"

"_Idiot!_"

**End**


End file.
